


Metaphors For Rain

by Grand Buzz (quodpersortem)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (kind of), Consensual, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Insecure Liam, Liam-centric, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Praise Kink, The X Factor Era, Underage - Freeform, Wing Kink, Wingfic, fumbling in the dark, winged Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/Grand%20Buzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's had wings all his life--it's just that, up until now, they were much easier to hide.</p><p>Which sucks, because now he's living in a house surrounded by people all the time, and his growing wings mean growing pains that he can't relieve by taking off his harness or stretching out his wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metaphors For Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissLii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLii/gifts).



> > Prompt 1:Non-AU Wing-fic. X-factor-era.  
> Liam with wings (because of reasons). He hates them because he's different, and has been teased about them before. His fear of his new band laughing at him, makes him want to hide his wings from them - especially Louis - but they find out by accident (one by one, or in group) and they don't react like Liam expected them to. Would love for this one to have some body worship. But it could also be pure fluff and cuddles, and I would be happy.
> 
> I would also like to apologise in advance as I didn't have much time to read over the fic properly due to extenuating (personal) circumstances. Any and all mistakes are therefore my own; feel free to point them out in the comments. 

**Metaphors for Rain**

 

Liam can’t remember ever being quite normal. He doesn’t remember shouting and jumping around with other kids, he doesn’t remember going on play dates or birthday parties. He certainly doesn’t remember inviting over someone else for his own birthday.

Honestly, Liam can’t quite remember ever being _happy_.

-

Being fourteen marks the year where he shakes up himself. He leaves his little room and his parents’ backyard, where he was free to spread his wings as far as they could without brushing the walls, and walks up on the auditioning stage.

He expects an outright _no_.

When he gets through the initial few rounds, Liam is more excited than he thought he could be, even though he cries when he has to leave, when he’s told he’s not old enough, when he’s told to take his time and improve. When no one knows that he has wings, that he is one of the _unwanted_ , of the _demons_ , because they are bound tightly to his back and legs, making walking normally quite difficult and especially painful.

Not getting through doesn’t change the way the lads in school see him, but it changes the way Liam views himself in the mirror. Yeah, he’s the lad with the odd gait, but now he’s also the guy with the golden throat.

(Well, maybe not quite that, but it’s easier to pretend now that Simon bloody Cowell does not hate him, not entirely).

-

Liam was born too early.

He was not breathing, not a single quiet cry as the doctors took him away. His dad’s told him he’d gone blue entirely, with little wings stuck to his back that the doctors didn’t even notice initially because he’d needed to be resuscitated.

After that, they’d discussed the possibility of removing the wings. _It happens more often_ , the doctors had told his parents. _We don’t want him to live a harder life than necessary_. _It will only leave some scars_.

His parents told them, _no_.

Now at sixteen, he wishes his parents had said _yes_.

Instead there’s a pair of ugly brown wings spread behind his back when he’s shirtless. They aren’t strong enough to carry his weight, although he reckons they might be soon. He’s sixteen now, and he’s been getting stronger; his wingspan’s been widening and he knows that he won’t be able to hide them for much longer.

It’s well too late to get them removed, too. It’d be life-threatening surgery, and the risks are sufficiently large that even Liam isn’t willing to take them.

He’s seen the porn on line though. The overly sexual display of people with wings, the shame his kin face every single day. It’s rare to be born like this, but they’re treated more like animals than like people. Human enough, though, that PETA won’t affiliate with the more prominent _homo alatus_ beneficiaries.

Liam has seen the oppression that George, an old man from Wolverhampton, faces because he’ll walk shirtless in the streets. His wings are small and grey-specked, like an ill seagull, and Liam avoids him because he’s afraid he’ll be caught in his lie.

His parents allowed him to go primary school with a harness that was tight on his body, fastened on his chest. They told the teachers to never take it off because he had back issues. It hurt, but for the time being he was able to play with other children—until, at least, they figured out he was different with his little white harness.

By the time his parents pulled him out of school, Liam was 12 and the damage had been done.

He rarely wears a harness these days. It doesn’t fit well; the phalanx and metacarpus of his wings curve up at his shoulders. It means he needs a secondary strap to push them down, painful on just about any joint in his upper body. There are straps keeping the primary feathers strapped to his thighs too.

He doesn’t want to be confined. He doesn’t want to be known as the boy with the wings. He doesn’t want to be known as the freak, more than  he already is.

Yet, he steps into the limelight a second time.

Liam knows that by the time he’s seventeen, there won’t be a single thing left to help him hide his wings and he does not want to be judged for them. He doesn’t need other people’s pity or admiration, or worse—the red-hot looks of the men and women on telly and on line.

 _It’s not an issue_ , he tells himself. _I’ll get my own room or I’ll be going home, I can do this_.

The moment he’s told he’s not on to the next houses brings him simultaneous sadness and relief; he’ll be able to go home now, stretch his wings all he wants, even if he’s not quite sure what kind of career he can ever make if it’s not to sing.

When he’s told he’ll be in a boy band, the first emotion Liam feels is overwhelming joy.

It’s quickly followed with terror, when they’re told they’ll be sharing a room the next several weeks until they’re done with the competition.

-

The time they spend in the cabin belonging to Harry’s dad is alright. Liam finds his ways to keep to himself—excusing himself to go to bed early, much to Louis’ annoyance, taking ages in the bathroom that leads the other boys to think he’s masturbating, and pretending that he can’t sleep very well when he shares a room.

The day after they fall asleep on the trampoline, Zayn and Louis keeping him there, Liam is in excruciating pain.

He barely leaves the couch, faking illness due to being outside, and tells them he was poorly as a kid.

It’s the lie he’s told so many people; as reason why he can’t go swimming, can’t go clubbing, can’t do anything someone of his age would normally do.

It’s not the first time Liam hates himself a little, but it’s the first time the people with him don’t simply turn their backs on him.

Harry and Zayn seem particularly concerned, while Niall offers to cook him a healthy meal and Louis just frowns at him. Honestly, Liam’s a little scared of Louis. He stares at Liam like he’s trying to figure him out, and it makes Liam feel antsy and nervous to be near him because he doesn’t want his secret found out just yet. They have known each other for just a few weeks and it’s not—even though the other boys are all kind enough, Liam doesn’t think it’s safe quite yet.

Louis, for once, keeps quiet and finally turns his gaze away from Liam.

-

The boys don’t find out while they’re in Harry’s dad’s cabin.

The time spent between the cabin and the trip to Simon’s house, Liam spends in his own room, shirtless and singing. He makes sure to keep his curtains closed—he’s not entirely sure if someone would want to take a picture of him, but Liam would rather be certain about no one figuring out his little (growing) secret.

There are a couple of close calls in Simon’s mansion, and Liam’s well aware that the other contestants have already started to perceive him as the oddball, the strange kid that would rather stay on his own. It’s just so he can stretch his wings, honestly, because Liam wouldn’t mind going swimming with the rest of them—he just, he hasn’t been in a pool since he was nine, not sure if he wouldn’t drown once his wings go water-logged and it’s a secret. He keeps telling himself that it needs to be a secret a little longer.

When they finally move into the X-Factor house in London, he’s prepared to having to share the room with at least one person.  It turns out it’s all five of them in a little cramped space—freaking out Liam a little bit, because it means he doesn’t have a safe space to resort to when he’s in pain.

It leaves him quiet and irritated, only able to relax a little when they are rehearsing.

His wings are sore constantly, especially after the first couple of nights sleeping with the contraption on his back and wearing bulky jumpers and wide trousers.

At night, he’s usually the first to turn in because that way he can avoid the boys noticing when he changes.

Zayn asks him about it a week in, right before the live shows—the show that terrifies Liam, because he won’t get to choose what he wears. A slow, drawling “are you okay, Leeyum?” on the morning of the big day.

“I suppose,” Liam lies. “I’ve just—never been around this many people for this long.”

Zayn laughs and wants to drag Liam in for a hug, but Liam can’t allow that. Instead he shuffles aside, blushing and shaking his head because he would like to tell him—he’s sure Zayn has noticed _something_ by now but the words are stuck in his throat.

Backstage, he changes into the toilets. The stylists don’t approve but Liam can’t reveal himself and he tells them, “It’s just nerves, I’ll—next time I’ll be fine yeah?” The other boys laugh and tell the stylist that they’ve never seen Liam change either, that it’s just one of his little quirks, and Zayn bumps his fist against Liam’s upper arm while Louis rolls his eyes.

The performance is a rush.

Liam loves it more than anything—forgetting about everything else in the world, except his voice and the music. It’s a little like flying, he supposes, the audience carrying him in a way that his wings never have.

The high doesn’t last.

He’s in the shared room, a couple of hours after the performance, sure that he’s locked the door when the knob creaks and light falls into the room.

“Liam, we’re gonna have dri—“ Louis’ loud voice booms before he abruptly goes quiet.

Liam knows it’s because of him, sat kneeling on the floor, elbows resting on the bed as he reads a comic. His wings are spread out behind his back, aching and dishevelled from the many hours in confinement.

“Shit,” he hears Louis say.

“I’m sorry,” are the first things from Liam’s mouth.

And he expects Louis to agree, to say that he should be, that he’s filthy for keeping a lie like this and that he doesn’t want to be in a band with a boy with wings. That it explains everything about how much he _hates_ Liam.

Instead Louis trudges into the room, more quiet than Liam has heard him be. His legs brush Liam’s wing when he moves to sit down on the bed, just looking at Liam—and Liam did not expect compassion, but that’s what he finds when he meets Louis’ eyes.

“I’m sorry too,” Louis tells him. His hand trembles when he puts it on top of Liam’s. “Is this why you were so—“

“Uptight?” Liam grits out. “Yeah. You try keeping a secret like this.”

Louis flinches, turning his eyes away from Liam’s.

“It hurts,” he continues. “Because I know how people think about _wingers_ like me, I knew that they’d either put me through because they’d feel pity or because it’d be interesting to have someone like me in the finales.”

He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes.

“And it hurts, because I have to keep parts of my body locked up. But you can’t tell the other boys.”

Again, he expects Louis to put up resistance like he has with everything else Liam has asked him to do, or not do. Instead, Louis’ fingers squeeze around his hand and he tells him, “I won’t.”

Surprise makes him utter, “You won’t?”

Louis shakes his head. “Contrary to what you seem to think, I do know how to keep a secret, Liam.”

“Um,” Liam shrugs, because he doesn’t want to admit he did think that lowly of Louis.

“It’s alright,” Louis frowns at the wall behind Liam, still not meeting his eyes. “Like, I don’t blame you. I reckon I sort of understand, even.”

“You don’t have wings, do you,” Liam knows he sounds bitter but—Louis has been doing great. He’s been flourishing, especially now they’re in the X Factor house. He’s been able to swim and play footie and make fun of Liam.

“No,” Louis agrees. “But um. I probably—I don’t know.” He looks smaller than Liam’s ever seen him; sadder too. Louis suddenly reminds him of his own reflection in the mirror and it confuses Liam, the way Louis is suddenly able to be so vulnerable now that he’s seen Liam’s wings.

“What is it?” Liam asks. He knows the palm of his hand is sweaty, and he’s not sure if it’s the _right_ thing to do, but regardless he twists his hand so his palm’s against Louis’.  “You don’t have to tell me, you know?”

“It’d be fair if I did, though,” Louis tells him.

“Not if you don’t want me to know,” Liam assures him, because he knows how horrible it is to have his secret exposed without his own consent.

Louis snorts, but it sounds humourless and self-depreciating. “I’ve never told anyone, actually.” A beat of silence follows, in which Liam wonders whether Louis is doing this for himself or for Liam. Where he realises, maybe a bit of both wouldn’t be so bad. “And it’s a bit scary.”

“I won’t hate you,” Liam tells him quietly. “Well, not more than apparently I already do.”

“You don’t hate me,” Louis teases, his voice immediately picking up lightness. “You love me.”

“Shut it,” Liam grins, and for once, he doesn’t mind Louis’ constant jibing. “Tell me, if you want to.”

“I—You really won’t hate me, will you?” He asks. “I don’t hate you for having wings. Or think different of you, beyond that I now understand why you’re so stuffy. You’ve obviously not been outside enough to-“ Louis starts rambling, and Liam squeezes Louis’ hand in his own.

“Shut it, Louis. I won’t hate you.”

“I’m gay,” Louis says, and Liam can feel his hand trembling in his own, pressure lessening as though Louis wants to make sure Liam knows he can pull away. Instead he curls his fingers between Louis’ own, because Louis is making him feel better and now it’s his turn.

“I’m—“ Liam wants to say _I’m not surprised_ or maybe _why didn’t you tell us_ , but the replies feel wrong. “I’m okay with that, Louis. That’s okay.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, still curling in on himself.

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve got _wings_ ,” Liam curses, and that gets a laugh out of Louis.

“Yeah, you’ve got wings.” For the first time, he meets Liam’s eyes. “You’ve got wings, and I’m gay, and Simon doesn’t know any of it.” He snickers. “Shit, what a fucking situation.”

“I’m glad you find it so funny,” Liam says, and he does try to stay serious but Louis’ laughter is infectious. The moment Louis smirks at him, Liam starts laughing as well, and it feels good, it feels nice to be with someone who isn’t judging him for his wings and who doesn’t take pity on him because he knows that above anything else, Louis is one of the most honest people he knows. Suddenly, he does not mind that quite as much.

-

“Do you reckon—“ Louis starts a couple of evenings later. He’s sitting on the bed next to Liam’s, grimacing at the straps Liam uses to keep his wings bound to his back. “It might be easier if you told the other lads, you know?”

Liam nods.

He’s been thinking about it, and Louis is right. It would even be beneficial to him to tell their stylist, even if he’s not sure how she’ll react.

“I’m just worried, I guess,” he confesses. “It’s just—I don’t know how they’ll respond.”

Louis snorts. “They’ll all still love you.”

“They don’t-“ Liam starts to protest, but Louis shoves an elbow into his side.

“They love you, you dolt.” Louis gnaws at his lower teeth instead of making it into a riot. “It’s why I was a bit of a twat, yeah? Jealousy, and that.”

Liam sits up a little straighter, tips of his wings fluttering, because he’s still not sure what to do with all the new information Louis has given him about himself these past few days—beyond that Louis is in fact a lovely person, and Liam feels quite awful about disliking him so much initially.

“I’m just—“

“Scared.” Louis nods. “I get it.”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees. And, because he’s been thinking about having to tell the other boys—especially since even only Louis knowing has made his life in the house so much easier—“Maybe I’d like to tell Zayn first. I think.”

“Zayn’s a good choice,” Louis tells him. He pats Liams’shoulder and Liam’s grateful for that—he’s not sure how his wings would respond if Louis did, and he’s happy Louis hasn’t asked to yet, too. It’d be too much for him to handle right now, Liam thinks.

“Yeah,” he says again. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

-

Louis brings Zayn up to their room the next day. Liam’s still dressed, because he doesn’t know how Zayn will respond to it and he’s not much interested in shocking someone into a heart attack.

He’s pacing and Zayn does look a little upset to find Liam nervous like this.

“You should probably sit down for this,” Liam tells him. He waits until Louis sits down next to Zayn before saying, “I’ve a bit of a secret.”

“Okay,” Zayn says slowly.

“Yeah,” Liam says. “Don’t be shocked, I guess?”

Then he pulls off the shirt, the fresh air against his wings making the feathers flutter a little even kept down by the straps. Zayn’s gaping at him, and Liam hates it but he still forces himself to undo the little buckles, dropping his trousers to get his auxiliaries free as well.

“You’re a proper superhero,” Zayn finally says. “Shit.”

Liam knows he’s bright red, because he’s _not_ , he’s not. It’s a silly reduction, and even though there’s a boy with wings in the X-Men, it’s not—

“I’m not.”

His wings stretch out behind his back though, and Zayn gets up to take a closer look. Louis gets up too, winking at Liam.

“They’re gorgeous, Liam,” he says, amazement in his voice, and Liam shakes his head.

“They’re brown. They’re not.”

“They are, though,” Louis says. Liam frowns at him because Louis hadn’t said anything about it before. “Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, yeah? With the shit you told me ‘bout like, the bullying.”

“There’s gold in them,” Zayn tells him, and Liam shakes his head.

“No, they’re dull brown. There’s flecks of lighter brown.”

He’s standing by the window, sun shining in, but Liam absolutely—he’s absolutely positive there’s no gold. He’s not good enough for gold—not that he’ll tell Zayn or Louis.

He feels fingers brush over his wings, drawing a shiver from him, and finds Louis gaping right next to Zayn, his fingers gently touching a feather. “There’s fuckin’ gold there, Payne. Zayn’s right.”

Liam barely hears Louis, distracted by the way his hand feels. He hasn’t had a decent preening job in forever, his wings matted down from improper care, and his mum used to do it but Louis’ touch—Louis touch is setting him on fire, and he wants to push his wing firmer into the light touch.

“Are you alright?” Zayn asks him, his voice dragging Liam from the—thing he was feeling, whatever it was.

“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out hoarse. “Yeah, I guess so?”

Zayn smiles and punches his fist against Liam’s shoulder. “It’s ok, yeah?” he tells Liam. “We’ll get through this.”

Liam can just dumbly nod, with Zayn grinning at him and Louis still admiring the full colour of his wings.

-

He tells the other two boys at the same time, the next day. Harry takes it in the way he does everything: with a grin, encouraging words and a gentle hug. Niall just laughs loudly and says, “Shit, that’s so cool, can you fly?”

Liam shakes his head, but he wonders if he’ll be able to by the end of the year.

The straps dig deeper and more painfully into his skin and feathers every night, and he’s been having pains in his wings too. He knows it means they’re growing—and the gold is becoming more obvious every day, casting a subtle sheen over his wings that wasn’t there before, even if they’re still in disarray.

Louis is the one who takes their stylist apart the next Saturday.

She’s surprisingly cool with it, even with Liam’s wish to keep it from everyone else. When it’s quiet for a moment, she confesses to Liam, “My daughter was born with wings. We’re not sure yet how to deal with it but—yeah.”

Liam nods, because he understands.

He understands, and there’s nothing he can do for the little girl to ease the pain he knows she’ll face in the future.

-

He’s blushing when he asks Louis and Zayn to comb through his wings a couple of days later.

“They need to be sorted out,” he mumbles. “They’re a mess and I can’t do it myself.”

“’s Cos you’re a freak of nature,” Louis jibes with a mouthful of jaffa cake, spraying crumbs all over the floor.

Liam glares at him, and Zayn kicks Louis’ shin. “I’ll help you, Leeyum. Louis can go stuff himself.”

Louis shrugs but he’s getting up anyway. “I’ll wash me hands first and then you can show us how to do this.”

This is how Liam finds himself sitting on a stool in the middle of the room, explaining to Zayn and Louis with a blush on his cheeks, “You need to find the oil glands first.”

“Where are they?” Louis asks, and Liam lifts his wings a little.

“The little bumps right under my wings. Um, you’ll need to press down a bit—“ and he is aware when Zayn finds it, the feeling sharp and strange as it shoots through his arm and makes his wings flutter. “Press _gently_ please,” he gasps.

 “Like a girl’s clit then,” Louis cackles, and Liam only barely resist punching him.

“Didn’t know you wanted to please girls like that,” Zayn snickers at Louis. When Liam looks over his shoulder, Louis is bright red and muttering, but Zayn’s already patting on his back. “Didn’t mean to confront you like that, I just kinda figured, okay?”

“How did you know?” Louis asks.

“Takes one to know one,” Zayn says. “Kind of. Fifty percent, anyway.”

Louis nods, Liam can see it in his peripheral vision. Then he asks, “What do we do next?”

“Gather some oil in the palm of your hand,” Liam instructs. “And then you just sorta stroke them through the wings, I suppose. Straighten them out, slick them back together.”

Zayn’s hands are more nimble than Louis’, more sure as they comb through his wings from his shoulder outwards. He figures that it’s because Zayn does art, but at the same time—Louis’ hands feel brilliant, good enough to make Liam bow his head down and really enjoy the contact.

“What about you, then?”  Louis asks all of a sudden, or maybe Liam dozed off and missed part of the conversation.

“What about me?”

“Are you gay? Straight? Bisexual?”  Louis asks him, and Liam shrugs his shoulders and wings.

“I’ve never even kissed someone. I wouldn’t really know.”

Zayn snorts. “Kissing someone or not kissing someone doesn’t mean that you can’t know which gender you’re attracted to.”

And that’s true, Liam knows it is—he’s just never given it much thought. There have always been bigger things to worry about. The wings and hiding them, going to school, and deciding what he wants to do when he grows up.

He’s not sure if he distinguishes his attraction to women from his attraction to men, though.

“I’m not sure,” he settles for in the end.

Louis’ hand is warm and oily when it lands on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’ll kindly inform you that over half of One Direction is not straight, then.”

Liam can feel the faint blush rise in his cheeks, but Louis and Zayn don’t comment on it.

And while Zayn’s starting to comb through his talons, almost done and leaving the rest of Liam’s left wing feel cold and shivery, Louis pauses and squeezes the muscle at the top. “Do you wanna kiss someone?” he asks.

“Uh,” Liam stammers.

“Zayn—“ Louis says, and Liam can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Louis, come on,” Liam complains.

“Well,” Zayn says. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that, I don’t think. Not if you are okay with it.”

And the thing is, Liam’s always told himself that his first kiss would be with someone that he truly fancied. He doesn’t think he fancies Zayn, necessarily—Liam’s not sure if he _could_ fancy someone this soon after meeting them—but it’s hard to deny that he’s good-looking.

It’s not a hard decision at all. He’s already been trying all sorts of new things lately, and he feels _ready_ for it and Zayn’s towelling off his hands as he moves to stand in front of Liam. He’s looking at Liam in—in a _way_ that makes the kisses in films seem a lot more realistic, because Liam can somehow tell what Zayn’s about to do. If Liam gives his consent, of course.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Louis doesn’t even whoop. He steps back from Liam’s wing, and Liam can feel the way he watches as Liam gets up from his chair.

Zayn’s gentle with him, smiling a little as he strokes a finger down his jaw before he presses a kiss to the corner of Liam’s mouth. Then his hand slides around the back of Liam’s neck and their mouths are pressed together.

Liam knows what to do, of course, but it’s nice that Zayn’s taking the lead—licking Liam’s lips until they open almost voluntarily, and then they’re kissing, really properly kissing, with tongues and mouths and Liam’s heard a lot about how no one’s first kiss is ever good but it’s—

It’s really very good. It’s easy to lift his arms and wrap them around Zayn’s shoulders to draw him in a little closer, to get lost in it as Zayn’s free hand settles on his hip.

The kiss deepens easily and Liam feels a sudden surge of arousal in his body as Zayn’s fingers grip him a little tighter, as their mouths open wider, as their hips bump together—

Which is when Louis’ breath hitches.

Liam breaks away from Zayn right away, because he’d forgotten all about him.

They both look at Louis, who’s standing with eyes wide as saucers, red on his cheeks. Liam doesn’t intend to and he feels a little guilty doing it, but his eyes drop down to Louis’ crotch, where he’s clearly hard in his trousers.

“That was really hot, alright?” Louis confesses, scratching at his neck. “Like. Y’know. Really hot.”

“Liam’s a good kisser, too,” Zayn jokes. “Maybe you should kiss each other too.”

And Liam’s intent on saying no because kissing two boys during the same day sounds a bit excessive, but Louis is looking at him like it’s all he wants and—and it’s like it magnetises something inside of Liam’s body, pulling him closer to Louis without giving his body permission to do so.

“Do you want to kiss me?”  he asks Louis, and Louis’  eyes drop down to his mouth for long moments. Liam watches as Louis bites at his own lower lip, runs his tongue along his teeth, and he knows the answer but it’s almost like Louis doesn’t want to say it.

“Lou, I’ve seen the way you look at Liam,” Zayn adds in, and Louis takes a break from observing Liam to shoot him a death glare.

“I’m okay with you kissing me,” Liam continues. He doesn’t want to delve too deep into what Zayn’s said, even though he’s had some suspicions himself after Louis came out to him. The lingering eyes, and the way he’d touched Liam’s wings.

“Okay,” Louis decides. “But you should kiss me first, not the other way around.”

And before he can chicken out, Liam leans in. He mimics what Zayn had done to him, putting his hand behind Louis’ neck as he brings their faces closer together, nipping at Louis’ mouth with his lips before pressing them together.

Louis stays still, and Liam can feel how Louis is grinning so he licks at Louis’ lips, stroking his finger down his jaw before pressing his thumb against Louis’ chin. He feels the click when Louis’ jaw unlocks, his tongue slipping against Louis’.

It’s a different kiss entirely—the taste, the feel of Louis’ lips, the flutter in Liam’s belly there from the start. Most of all, Louis doesn’t touch him which throws Liam off entirely. He’s come to know Louis as someone very tactile, and although he initially doesn’t mind, when he deepens the kiss and Louis groans Liam actually grabs Louis’ hand and pulls it towards himself.

“ Fuck,” he can hear Zayn groan to the side, but Liam’s too busy dragging his hand through Louis’ hair, breathing heavily through his nose because kissing is addictive, the way it makes him feel loved and distracted and really quite loved and admired.

He wants more, and more, tempted to grab Louis’ bum and haul him close enough to rub his erection against Louis’ thigh but Louis stops him, gentle hands on his shoulders pushing him away.

“That’s quite enough for now, babe,” Louis whispers, pressing a kiss against Liam’s mouth before stepping back. “Don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I think he’s pretty overwhelmed already,” Zayn adds in.

It’s partially true, Liam supposes. He’s hot all over, his knees a bit weak and his hard-on aching in his jeans. Mostly, though, he’d like more now.

“Maybe you should kiss each other too, you know.” Liam’s voice comes out less confident than he’d hoped, but it does grab the other boys’  attention. “Just to make it fair for everyone.”

“Well,” Zayn says, eyes flitting over to Louis. “I don’t suppose I’d mind kissing you, Lou.”

“You wouldn’t, hm?”  Louis smirks, cocking his head to the side.  “Let’s give Payno a show.”

They fall together easily, right in front of Liam’s eyes. There’s no hesitation or gentle pecks, just Zayn groaning and Louis opening his mouth for Zayn right away.

There are no knocking noses, no bumping arms—Louis folds his arms around Zayn’s waist to pull him close, until they’re pressed together from their bellies to their thighs, and Liam thinks he should be jealous but he’s _not_.

Instead he’s still warm, his face burning up and he briefly palms his cock through his trousers before shying away again, feeling self-conscious. Louis is moaning into the kiss now, pulling Zayn’s hair into disarray while Zayn’s hands are on Louis’ bum, cupping and squeezing, and Liam—okay, Liam does wish he had done that too.

He’s not quite sure if there’s a knock on the door at all, but suddenly Niall’s in the room with them, gaping at them with wide eyes before he stammers, “I’m sorry, didn’t realise you were busy, I’ll see you later!”

Louis and Zayn break up the kiss the moment they hear Niall speak, and while Zayn remains frozen, Louis immediately bursts out in laughter as Niall darts from the room, muttering to himself.

-

“So you’re gay?” Niall asks, and Louis nods while Zayn and Liam both shake their heads. They’re gathered in the room again, holding an impromptu band meeting after Niall went to Harry to pour out his heart. “You’re not gay?”

“Bisexual,” Zayn says with a small shrug, though he’s not looking at anyone.

“I don’t know,” Liam confesses with a shrug. He still feels weird talking about his sexuality, especially because there’s not a label he can put on himself, but Harry’s hand is a comforting weight on his shoulder.

“And you were putting up a porn for Liam?” Niall gestures between Zayn and Louis, and Liam almost chokes on air.

“Christ, Niall,” Louis snorts. “No, we just snogged in front of Liam.”

Niall doesn’t look entirely convinced, but Harry is grinning like he knows exactly what was going on. Hell, Liam wouldn’t be surprised if Louis had voiced his desire to see Liam and Zayn kiss each other to Harry before, which would mean that he knows exactly what’s going on.

He doesn’t press any further though, and instead Harry speaks up.

“It’s cool that you’re not straight,” he says, the smirk turning into a genuine smile as he turns to drag Liam into a hug.

It’s a bit awkward, a couple of Liam’s feathers getting painfully smushed between them as Harry pulls Louis and Zayn down in the hug too. Niall wriggles his way in as well, and Liam—regardless of the pain—breathes a sigh of relief because no one here has dared judge him negatively.

He’s sure that they’re all friends now, and when he catches Louis’ eye when they break apart the hug, he wonders if they will be more than that at some point.

-

Liam’s taking a nap on the only bed in the room that’s not a bunk bed, his wings spread out to his sides and brushing the floor, when Louis comes into the room.

At first he closes his eyes again, figuring Louis is just looking for his phone, or gameboy, or maybe a pair of socks, but then he feels the bed dip down where Louis sits down on it.

“Are you alright?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up.

It’s only then that he realises Louis is flushed behind his glasses, his eyes rimmed red. He’s shaking his head, and Liam’s not even thinking before he’s pulling Louis in close.

Louis’ arms wrap tight around Liam right away, his glasses getting pushed up his face and into Liam’s jaw as he crawls closer, so Liam gently takes the glasses from Louis’ nose and puts them on the floor just under the bed so they won’t break.

Then he combs his fingers through Louis’ hair, because he can feel Louis is crying, the tears soaking his shirt, and Liam’s not sure how he should deal with this.

“I miss the girls,” Louis sniffles, voice muffled by Liam’s shirt. “And I miss my mum.”

And it breaks Liam’s heart a little to see Louis this sad, so he pulls him even closer before lying down on his back, doing what he does to comfort himself: curling his wings around both of them.

It takes a while before Louis’ breathing starts to calm, his arms curled around Liam’s waist and his fingers rubbing against the downy feathers along the top of Liam’s wings.

It’s getting warm and cosy under the canopy he’s made and he keeps combing through Louis’ hair, now spiking up a little from the dampness of his sweat and tears, until Louis finally takes a deep breath and snuffles.

He’s quiet, taking his hand away from Liam’s wing to stroke it along his side. Liam watches Louis watch his own fingers trail over the little bumps of his ribcage.

“Are you better now?” Liam whispers.

Louis nods. He fumbles his hand into the sleeve of his sweater before wiping at his eyes and mouth, eyes focusing on Liam’s face.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Liam’s mouth.

Then he settles back down, curled up comfortably against Liam.

-

The next evening, when Liam’s up in their room again for his wing-stretching and perhaps a nap after rehearsals and dinner, Louis comes in.

For a moment, Liam thinks that Louis is homesick again when he crawls onto the bed. The idea makes his wings flutter in distress, and Louis pets at the strong muscle along the top bone before he shakes his head.

“Not homesick,” he whispers at Liam. “Just wanted to snog you for a bit.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Liam breathes, watching Louis as he smiles and carefully manoeuvres his limbs around so he’s not pushing down on Liam’s wings while he’s settling down half on top of him.

The first kiss is soft and gentle, like the way Louis kissed him yesterday as a _thank you_. Liam can feel that Louis’ skin is cooler today, his eyes brighter and his breath calmer. He’s confident in Liam’s arms, moving closer to Liam when Liam wraps his arms around Louis’ waist.

Louis is the one to deepen the kiss, with one arm leaning next to Liam’s head and the other stroking slow circles on the bare skin of his hip. It’s a touch that both calms and arouses Liam, allowing him to kiss Louis back with fervour. Louis’ lips are soft where they’re pressing against Liam’s, and taste of the milky tea he undoubtedly just had is strong on his tongue.

Liam hums into the kiss, and Louis sighs and relaxes a bit as he breaks the kiss and nips at Liam’s jaw, slowly making his way to lick at the junction with his neck. Liam knows he’s getting hard, but he doesn’t want to let Louis go, satisfied with the slow and warm burn of the early evening.

Louis’ hips are moving against his own with incrementally small hitches, sending little shocks through Liam’s body until he’s so warm he’s to spread his wings.

“Do you wanna snog shirtless?” Louis smiles at him, the flush on his cheeks extending down to his neck.

“Yeah,” Liam mutters, even though he’s already got his fist in Louis’ hair, pulling him for another deep kiss. His hand easily finds the hem of Louis’ shirt, sliding up over smooth skin in a way that makes Louis shiver.

Louis sits up and allows Liam to pull the shirt over his head, before Liam unbuttons his own shirt down the front and Louis helps him with the Velcro strips his mum sewed in at the back, leaving gaps for his wings to pop out.

It’s a bit embarrassing really, but when Louis lies back down on Liam, their bare skin touching, he almost comes in his pants. His hips buck up and in a reflex he grabs a hold of Louis’ hips to steady him.

“You’re really bloody into this,” Louis murmurs, a rhetorical comment to which Liam only nods and gasps when Louis pinches his nipple. “You look so good, fuck.”

Liam needs to close his eyes at that, because Louis’ stream of compliments in private won’t let down, just like his insults in public don’t.

Besides—if there’s anyone who’s looking good right now, it’s Louis. His hair is falling over his forehead in a soft swipe, his cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen and—and Liam’s thinking about those same lips wrapped around his cock, all of a sudden, his hips twitching again as he tries to stop thinking about it because _oh god, oh holy god_.

“You alright?” Louis asks.

“Just—“ Liam whimpers, “you look fantastic, Louis.”

“Yeah?” Louis perks up even more. “You wanna ravish me then?”

And Liam does. He does. It scares him how much he doesn’t just want Louis shirtless, how he wants to feel the soft golden skin everywhere against himself, how much he wants to _make Louis come_.

Louis must see it in Liam’s eyes, because his gaze drops down and his mouth opens like he wants the exact same thing with Liam, right now, and it makes him feel dizzy.

“Did you lock the door?” Liam asks, boldened by desire, by the way Louis is staring at him.

Louis nods, and then Liam’s fumbling with the button on Louis’ trousers, pushing down the zip and then sticking his hands down the back. Louis’ bum is soft in his hands. It’s warm and full and when he squeezes, Louis moans and rolls his hips down against Liam’s.

“Naked,” he whimpers into Liam’s neck. “Let’s get naked, yeah?” and then he’s wriggling away from Liam, pulling down his trousers.

The outline of his cock is obvious in the white boxers he’s wearing, and Liam’s trembling as he reaches down to unbutton his own trousers, lifting his hips so he can pull them down. His pants come down too, and Liam sees Louis’ gaze being drawn to where his cock slaps against his tummy. He throws his clothes to the side, ignoring the way the cool air is making his wings stretch far to the sides and flutter, the way Louis’ look is making his cock drip precome onto his tummy.

“C’mere,” he reaches out for Louis, and Louis moves back on top of him easily.

The soft material of Louis’ boxersbriefs is the only thing keeping their erections from touching, and Liam gently rubs over the tip of Louis’ cock, the material growing wet under his fingertips while Louis’ entire body shakes.

“Feels so good,” Louis gasps, pushing his cock against Liam’s hand. “Shit, just— _naked_.”

He doesn’t wait for Liam, just shoves down his pants and grabs Liam’s wrist, guiding his hand back to his cock.

Liam had always imagined being scared during his first time, but Louis is staring down at him with such wonder and amazement that he can’t help being confident, curling his hands around Louis’ hard on and jerking him off with quick, short pulls, the way he’s heard Louis do under the blankets before.

Louis doesn’t seem to mind that Liam’s inexperienced, because he’s moaning loud enough that Liam has to pull him back in for a kiss to help him be a bit more quiet.  Louis’ naked body feels good on top of him, enough that Liam’s hands automatically go for Louis’ bum again so their cocks brush together.

It’s almost enough to make him come, his wings curling around Louis in the reflex to keep him closer, closer, and Louis kisses him again as they push their hips together. It’s frantic right away, slick with sweat and precome as Liam forces Louis’ on, pulling him back in again and again by his bum and his hips. He wants to feel more of Louis, but right now Liam’s chasing his orgasm because he’s almost there, _almost there_ ,

With muscles trembling and his wings tensing up, brushing against Louis’ back as they close in more as Liam teethers on the edge, the friction and the whole _being with someone_ turning him on beyond compare—

And then Louis’ hand brushes down his side, moving back, brushing over one of Liam’s oil glands and he’s done for, the extra stimulation making him gasp and arch up his back because Louis’ finger is insistent and pressing hard enough that it’s borderline painful, but it’s enough, it’s _more_ than enough and he’s spilling between their stomachs.

Louis kisses his jaw while Liam pants and shivers his way through his orgasm, his cock twitching as Louis keeps rubbing his own erection against it, now wet with Liam’s come, and his wings slowly relaxing again, giving them space to breathe.

When Liam looks at Louis again, Louis is smiling down at him. He’s not looking frantic anymore, a satisfied glow in his face.

“You came?” he asks, and Louis starts to giggle.

“You didn’t realise?” he asks, clearly amused. Liam can feel the blush rise higher to his cheeks.

“I was kind of caught up, in case you didn’t notice,” he mutters, a bit embarrassed by the whole situation—and quite sad because he didn’t get to watch Louis’ face.

“It’s okay, babe,” Louis says before gently kissing Liam’s lips. “Happens to the best of us. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Yeah,” Liam nods with an awkward shrug, “I’m glad about that too.”

Louis ends up digging some baby wipes from his bag that he cleans Liam with first—and Liam watches as Louis expertly wipes up the puddles of semen from his tummy and the smears from his thigh. He’s gentle when he cleans Liam’s dick, and it makes Liam feel embarrassed again until Louis looks up and snickers, patting at Liam’s thigh.

When Louis is cleaned off as well, they both change into underwear and joggers, but Louis insists they should take a nap shirtless.

He snuggles in next to Liam, and Liam has to adjust his wing a couple of time before it’s comfortable to him, but it’s clear that Louis loves the way that the feathers feel against his skin because he keeps trailing his fingers through the downy fluff, sometimes stroking as far down Liam’s talons as he can.

Liam barely notices Louis’ movements growing slower, sleepy himself, until he’s waken up later that night by Zayn turning on the light and smiling at them kindly before informing them that they’ll need to do some more filming around the house. 

-

Liam’s terrified when Louis drags him over to Simon after the next show.

They’ve talked about Liam coming clear about his wings before as a band, and Liam had insisted he didn’t want to say anything unless they would actually pass on to the next round. He also said he’d want to tell Simon before telling any of the other contestants, so it wouldn’t get to Simon through rumours—even if he’s seen plenty of them pop up on line, all based on evidence found in the pull of his clothes.

And they have made it through another round, now.

His hands are shaking, Louis’ hand around his wrist hot as he lets him pulled in Simon’s direction.

“Can we have a chat?” Louis asks him brightly. “In private, please.”

Simon stares at them like they’ve grown an extra head, but he sighs and tells them, “Alright then. Come on.”

Louis grins at Liam as they follow Simon to his dressing room, briefly squeezing his fingers more tightly around Liam’s wrist in a gesture that Liam understands as comfort.

“Dear God, please don’t tell me you’re dating,” Simon groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Actually, if you are, don’t tell me and leave.”

“No, no,” Louis quickly says, even though Liam’s already feeling awkward again because he’s pretty sure that by now they _are_ , with Louis pulling him into one of the loos before the show to give him a good luck kiss.

“Alright, what is it,” Simon says, arms crossed in front of him.

“Liam has something cool to show you,” Louis grins.

Liam shrugs as Simon stares at him slightly impatiently, because there’s no doubts loads of things he should be doing right now, so he shrugs off his jacket, and the shirt underneath, and by then Simon’s looking at him entirely different.

He expects to be told that he needs to leave the band now, or keep the wings hidden even if he knows his current harness is bursting at the seams and his clothes are stretched tight enough that the camouflage will stop working soon.

Instead, Simon says, “This is brilliant!”

Louis grabs a hold of Liam’s arm again, nodding excitedly at Simon.

“it’s representation,” he tells Simon, “and it would be great to have little kids who have wings and who are bullied see him!”

“That,” Simon says, “but imagine the show value, too. Oh Liam, this is a _goldmine_ —“ and pausing for a moment, he walks back and forth, “quite literally. That’s gold on your wings, isn’t it? Will it spread?”

“I don’t know,” Liam mutters. “It didn’t show up until a couple of weeks ago, so I suppose that it might.”

“And are you able to fly?”

Liam shrugs again, for lack of a better answer. “I used to not be able to carry myself, but my wingspan’s been increasing quite a bit.”

Simon still looks excited when he tells them, “Can you drop by my office later this week, Liam? I’ll need to discuss the situation with my team but there has been plenty of speculation about your... predicament already. I assume the fans will quite like it.”

Liam finds himself nodding numbly, and then Simon’s getting up and clapping his hands together.

“Well, I’ve to go now so enjoy the rest of the evening, and I will be texting you, Liam, the exact time and day for our appointment,” he announces.  

When they are out of Simon’s sight, Louis grabs Liam’s hand and entwines their fingers.

-

Things do look up from then on.

Simon sets up the reveal of Liam’s wings to be put in a magazine interview, after which a televised interview with the band is shown on television.

The response is overwhelming, and although Liam does receive his share of hate there are a lot more people now who admire his wings, and the way they spread behind his back in the black-and-white photos, towering over the heads of the other boys to his sides.

The newspapers who latch on to the story use headlines saying things like, ONE DIRECTION: THE ONLY WAY IS UP, and THE FUTURE’S HIGH FLYERS?

Liam’s glad he’s in the X-Factor house still, hidden from the tumult of the outside world. The other contestants have responded to the publicity in various ways: although most of them support him, he knows that the outing of his wings has given One Direction a surge of popularity which will lead to an increase of votes.

Louis and Zayn help him with that, too. Or rather, all of the boys do, but Louis and Zayn are the ones who take Liam back to the room, to help him groom his wings (they’re still the only ones he’ll allow to touch them). Sometimes it’s just that, and sometimes it delves into more—snogging for the most part, and once they sat in a small circle to watch each other wank.

Zayn still doesn’t seem to mind when Liam’s with just Louis, and it’s like an unspoken rule that whenever Liam and Zayn are together, or Louis and Zayn are, they’ll let the third party know about it so he can join in if he wants to.

It’s the week before the finale when Louis texts Liam, “Come 2 the room?”

It doesn’t surprise Liam. They’ve all been nervous and Louis especially likes to calm not only Liam but also himself by threading his fingers through the feathers on Liam’s back.

When he gets there, Zayn’s lounging on the bed with a sketch pad and pencil in his hand. Louis has already got the stool set up, twiddling with his fingers and jumping up from the bed the moment Liam comes in.

Liam strips off his shirt while Louis is locking the door. Zayn must hear the click of the lock, because he snickers and looks up at them.

“Harry was baking,” Liam volunteers, “And Niall was sneaking batter. I don’t think they’ll be up any time soon.”

“You never know,” Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “I’d rather not have uncle Simon come in, though.”

Liam laughs as he shakes his head and sits down. “Come on, Lou. You were trying to get your hands on me when we had the meeting for the new songs last week.”

Louis just smirks and goes on to trail his fingers down Liam’s spine, effectively shutting him up.

If there’s one thing he’s found out since allowing Louis and Zayn to help out with his wings, it’s that he loves to be touched. There’s nothing Liam likes more than feeling Louis crawl into bed with him at night because he’s homesick or cold. Sometimes it’s Zayn instead, too, his limbs thinner and cooler than Louis’ and his hold on Liam more tentative.

Now Louis is starting to push at the little oil gland under Liam’s wing, except he’s not gentle the way he usually is.

“Fuck,” Liam groans, his wing fluttering as he gets up and tries to pull away from Louis in reflex. As before, it’s not a _bad_ feeling necessarily, just—enough to make him hard if Louis keeps going. There’s a reason why he didn’t like it when his mum did it, and why he told Louis and Zayn to touch him gently before.

Louis doesn’t allow him to move far though, and when he looks up he finds Zayn looking at him.

“We’re going to take care of you, babe,” Louis whispers in his ear, and when he presses himself up against Liam’s back it’s with his bare chest. His oil-slick finger finds Liam’s nipple, reaching around under his wing to tease at it gently as he nips at Liam’s neck. “Zayn and me both.”

Liam’s nodding, spreading his wings wide so he can better feel Louis’ body pressed against them. It feels good, comforting even as Zayn sits up on the bed and pulls off his shirt too and Louis starts to unbutton Liam’s trousers.

Zayn calmly walks up to Liam as well, combing his fingers through Liam’s hair before pulling him in for a proper kiss. Liam shivers into it, gently placing his hands on Zayn’s hips as Louis’ hands tug down his trousers and pants. Louis’ hands go back to tease at the oil glands there.

He can feel the thick sticky liquid drip down his back, shaking a little as he can feel his dick get harder, perking up between his thighs. Then Zayn’s hand drops down to his erection, his fist slowly wanking Liam to full hardness while Louis keeps doing whatever he’s doing.

It all becomes clear when he asks, “Liam, can you use your oil for lube?”

Zayn breaks the kiss and smiles at Liam—or maybe he smiles at Louis, peering over Liam’s shoulder.

“Uh,” Liam frowns. “I’ve never tried.”

“Can I?” Louis whispers, kissing the top of Liam’s spine, and then the soft downy skin surrounding the base of his wings. It’s sensitive there too, and it makes it easier for Liam to stop worrying and nod.

“Come on, to the bed,” Zayn tells him, and—

“Have you talked about this?” Liam wonders out loud, Louis carefully keeping one hand cupped, a small pool of the preening oil in his palm.

“We may have,” he shrugs, and Zayn nods.

“Didn’t want to do anything without you here, but it got Louis pretty hard, talking about fingering you.”

Liam’s breath catches in his chest—he’d somehow thought that Louis would use the oil on his cock, but the bed does make more sense now. It’s a bit of a scary idea, even if he’s tried it himself a couple of times.

“I promise we’ll make you feel good,” Louis tells him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Zayn says, glaring at Louis a bit, but Liam’s nodding already.

“I want to, though. I trust you.”

“Say no if you change your mind, alright?” Zayn tells him, cupping his chin and leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Can someone help me with my trousers, though?” Louis mutters. “I don’t want Liam to be the only one naked here.”

Liam wants to get up, but Zayn holds up a hand and walks over to stand behind Louis. “Liam did like the little show we gave him last time,” he murmurs.  He’s quick with the button, looks like he’s got some experience, not that that surprises Liam much.

He’s also not awkward about touching Louis’ cock once his pants have been shoved down, and Louis is shaking and blushing as he tries to keep his hands still so the oil won’t spill. Zayn winks at Liam as he pinches at the tip of Louis’ cock. It’s enough to make him moan, his thighs visibly trembling, and Liam’s own erection twitches at the sight.

Liam helps Louis crawl onto the bed with him, steadying him with his hands on his hips as Louis kneels between his legs while Zayn strips down to his birthday suit as well.

He comes to lie next to Liam, so Liam spreads his wing a little farther until Zayn looks comfortable.

“C’mere with your hand,” Louis mutters at Zayn. “I think I’ve got a bit too much and I don’t want to get the bed messy.”

Zayn wriggles a little so his head is at the height of Liam’s chest and then dips his finger into the puddle of oil.

His fingertip is cool when he touches Liam, slowly pressing in the tip of his finger as Liam spread his legs a bit further to give Zayn some more space. When Zayn throws his leg over Liam’s, his cock presses warm against Liam’s hip and he needs to take a deep breath then because even though Zayn isn’t moving his finger or his pelvis it’s all a bit overwhelming.

“You look really good,” Louis mutters, staring down at where Zayn’s slowly starting to wriggle his finger around.

It feels a bit funny, honestly, but when he’d done it on his own  Liam had used his dry finger and it’s easy to decide for himself that it’s better now.

Zayn goes back to Louis’ hand to get some more oil, and then some more, getting Liam to feel really slick and it’s a bit uncomfortable again—just the stretch though, even as Zayn takes it really slowly when he pushes his finger in further and further until he can feel the rest of Zayn’s hands against his bum.

Louis seems to care less for the mess now, because he’s leaning in a bit so he can rub one of his slick fingers against the sensitive skin and muscle, teasing around the place where Liam’s trying to relax around Zayn’s finger.

“Think you need something else, yeah,” Louis says, and it figures that he’s the talkative one while Zayn is focused on—well, he’s got a finger up Liam’s bum so he supposes that this does count as fingering already. Zayn’s focused on that, but Liam figures that he must enjoy it because he can feel his hip grow sticky where Zayn’s still pressing his cock against Liam’s skin.

He wraps the hand with most oil still in it around Liam’s cock, immediately stroking down firmly, and that’s enough to make his hips leave the bed, his wings immediately stretching outward and knocking a lamp off a table as he grabs at the sheets and at Zayn’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he’s gasping, and he can hear Louis laugh, “Oh fuck.” Zayn groans too, grinding his erection into Liam’s side and when he wants to stop, Liam reaches down and tries to urge him on with a hand on his lower back.

The oil is dripping down too, over his balls and down to where Zayn gathers it up, having pulled out of Liam for a bit while Louis wanks him very, very, _very_ slowly.

Liam hates how close he is already, because he’d love for this to go on and on forever but his stomach is already coiling tight and Zayn’s just slicked up his own dick so that his movements are much easier and it shouldn’t be so stupidly hot to watch Zayn be so desperate that he takes satisfaction with rubbing one out against Liam’s _thigh_ but it is, and it’s even better when his finger’s rubbing at his hole again and Zayn  is panting hotly over his nipple. 

Louis is crawling up farther while Zayn does his thing, claiming Liam’s mouth for himself while Zayn still watches. His hand is speeding up in time with the deepening of the kiss, Liam keeping Louis close with his fingers carded through his hair.

He’s quickly falling into a headspace where all that counts is pleasure, Zayn’s finger wriggling insistently and the slight discomfort set off by Louis’ hand toying with his cock the way Liam needs him to—has shown him to before, pulling the foreskin down as far as it goes before sliding it back over the head and gathering up the precome.

Like always, his wings curl in on him when he gets close, pushing Zayn even closer against his body and almost knocking over Louis until he decides to lie down on the free half of Liam’s body.

Liam is fairly sure he’s unable to breathe for the last couple of moments, until he’s spilling over his tummy and gasping breaths of relief, his hips trying to move up but being prevented from doing so because his boys are holding him down, holding him grounded.

He throws his hand across his eyes after he’s come, slapping Louis’ hand from his overly sensitive cock with his other hand before realising that Zayn is probably about to come. His finger’s pulled out of Liam already, and Zayn is grinding against his hip desperately with his eyes wide open and his breath coming out in quick pants.

It’s only seconds after that when Liam feels the slick starting to cover his thigh and lower belly, Zayn’s movements irregular for a couple of seconds before he stops altogether.

He stays in place, his head falling back on Liam’s chest and Liam curls his arm around Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn is the one to reach out for Louis’ cock as well, because Louis seems more interested in moving up to kiss Liam than to get off.

It doesn’t take Zayn long to get Louis there either, adding to the mess already on Liam’s tummy and sighing happily after he’s tucked himself in at Liam’s free side. Zayn’s hand is still resting on Liam’s tummy, and it doesn’t surprise him much when Louis reaches for it to entwine their fingers.

 -

Liam doesn’t tell his parents about his two boyfriends until after the show is over. They are a bit shocked at first, but his mum gives him a big hug and asks if he’s happy. When Liam confirms that yes, he is, she tells him, “I love you, baby, I’m not surprised that Zayn and Louis both love you just as much.”

It’s also that day, that he goes outside because it’s a lovely winter’s day with a bright sun shining over a pale and frosty England, spreads his wings and finds that he can lift himself up into the air.

Even from a couple of meters up, the world looks different, and it’s for the first time in his life that looking up scares Liam less than looking down.

It's the first time in his life that he feels fully contented, or even  _happy_ , with his life.

 

[end]


End file.
